


mcprom night (ft. a bong and sloppy kisses)

by itenixol



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Drug Use, F/F, Fluff, I can’t write, M/M, Prom Night, Romellura, Tooth Rotting Fluff, adashi, chicken nuggies, gifted work, its a bong chill, klance, love u guys OWO?, mcdonalds, sloppy kisses, uwu uwu uwu, yall’re gonna kill me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-21
Updated: 2018-09-21
Packaged: 2019-07-14 23:14:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16050557
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itenixol/pseuds/itenixol
Summary: [ this work is gifted/inspired by gracie (@/girlidk8) on twitter ! she likes to steal my uwus and makes me sob tears of lesbian, go follow her ! ][ credit to ryan, @/imreallytryan on twitter for editing this ! i love him with all my uwu and hope he has the greatest day ever ! ]mcdonalds + promklance





	mcprom night (ft. a bong and sloppy kisses)

**Author's Note:**

> tw // drug use/a bong 
> 
> enjoy

“You don’t have a prom date?” 

Lance gawked, eyebrows raised and eyes wide. That was surprising, considering Lance heard and saw girls nearly fainting over him, though, he’s consider himself one of those boys who’d faint over him.

Keith’s chin lay atop the palm of his hand, eyes looking down to the cold mashed potatoes the lunch lady, Barb, as they call her, served. He stirred them around with a fork, obviously not hungry. “Yeah,”

Lance didn’t have a prom date either, considering he wanted Keith to be his prom date but knew that he’d most likely decline. He was confident, but somehow, Keith cancelled all confidence and courage and shrunk Lance down into a shy, awkward teen who never knew what to say to him.

Lance hummed.

Keith continued to stir around the mash potatoes, and Lance started to get annoyed by it. He reached over, placing his hand atop Keith’s own and forcing him to stop. 

Keith’s cheeks flooded with a bright red, his eyes traveling to stare into Lance’s own.

I can’t believe I just did that. 

“It’s annoying,” Lance mumbled, still in awe that he just carelessly reached over and stopped Keith from stirring his food. Keith seemed unmoving, his dark grey-purple eyes – which Lance believed were contacts up until two days ago, where Lance tried to take out the non-existent contacts but ending up putting Keith in the nurse’s office – still staring at Lance’s royal-blue ones.

Finally, he sighed into the palm of his hand, letting go of his fork and letting it be held by Lance, though Lance then dropped it. 

Lance quickly pulled back his arm, inhaling hastily. “Anyway,” he awkwardly chuckled, his eyes darting to the table across from theirs, “That sucks.”

Keith shrugged, lifting his head from the palm of his hand and exhaling through his nose. His hands were now in the pockets of his maroon colored hoodie, head tilted downwards.

Lance panicked slightly. “—if you’d like,” he slammed his elbow on the table, wincing in pain as it began to sting, “You can just hang out with me, Pidge, Hunk, Allura and Romelle. Nothing romantic,”

Keith tilted his head, suggesting he wasn’t keen on the idea, “If we have to dance, count me out. I can’t dance,”

Lance nodded. “We don’t need to dance.”

Keith sat silent for a minute too many, leaving Lance nervous before he sighed. 

“Fine. I’ll come,” Though I’ll be a nervous wreck, his mind added on helpfully.

“Okay,” Lance grinned, “See you there?”

Keith scoffed. “Sure,” he took his hands out his pockets and grabbed his tray, still full of food, and stood up from his seat, “See you there.”

And so, he walked over to throw the tray in the trash can, not bothering that he wasn’t even supposed to throw away the tray, and stomped over to the bathroom, hoping no one was inside as he practically squealed for ten minutes.

He was going to prom with Lance. Lance! He hit the jackpot.

———

Four days later, at six forty-three, Keith stood in front of the mirror.

He had a deep-crimson colored suit on, along with black dress pants and dress shoes. Usually, he never went to prom, he saw no reason for it, but he was going with Lance, Lance for God’s sake, so he wanted to look as fancy as possible.

He begged Shiro and Adam to buy him a suit and dress shoes, for he already owned dress pants—awkward story for later—even offering to give them all his leftovers, consisting of sushi and some brownies he made one day. 

“Why? You never go anyway,” Adam had raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest.

”Well, I’m going this time.”

Shiro placed his hand on Adam’s shoulder, whispering unknown words into his ear, and Keith watched impatiently as Adam nodded.

He sighed, “Fine. But tomorrow we’ll buy you one,” Adam looked back to Shiro, who lifted his eyebrows in confusion.

Keith smiled widely, leaping up from his knees to his feet and hugging them tightly. 

“Thanks. I appreciate it.”

Back to the present.

Keith’s palms were constantly sweating as he continued to wipe them off on a towel, slowly becoming frustrated as it did nothing. Who was he kidding, he’d never be calm at prom and he’d probably make a fool of himself, unless. . .

It wouldn’t take long, maybe, at the most, two minutes. And it couldn’t do any harm to anybody.

He exhaled through his nose, traveling across the hall to his room, and sitting down on his newly-ruined-bed and staring at the bedside table. A lighter was there, as was a clear bong, and it was last used, maybe, a month ago.

It was empty of water, he’d need to fill it up at the sink, and a decently sized bag of cannabis was now being held in his hands as he ran back to the bathroom, setting the bag itself down and taking the bong. 

Keith tried to fit it in the sink and failed, moaning in anger before kneeling down beside the bathtub and turning the knob slowly, bringing it up. 

Immediately, Keith regretted ever being born.

Water sprayed from the shower head, his arms still inside the bathtub holding his bong, both now drenching wet. He looked like a wet puppy.

He didn’t roll up his sleeves, either.

Keith quickly slammed down the knob and drew his arms back, standing up and setting the bong down on the toilet lid.

An embarrassment.

“Oh, my fucking God,” he spoke aloud, mouth hung open before his teeth started to bite harshly on his lips. “Oh, my fucking God.” He repeated.

He used the towel to try––decently, not perfectly––to dry his soaking sleeves, all the while muttering in a husky voice, “Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Shit.”

After deliberately giving up after three minutes, he dried off the bong as well and decided that, fuck it, he could take a hit at school to relax, they had water fountains and acceptably low sinks, so there shouldn’t be a problem.

 

He was going to walk, it wasn’t such a ways away, it would only take him about fifteen minutes to get there. 

Hopefully his sleeves would be dry enough by then.

Keith was actually smart enough to bring an oversized hoodie, all black, with pockets to hold the cannabis in, along with his phone, maybe not the bong, but he could just hide that in his backpack.

He traveled back to his room, grabbing the lighter and putting it into his backpack. He waved ‘goodbye’ to Shiro and Adam, resisting the urge to gag as they showed affection like any couple would. 

Did he have Lance’s number? Yeah, he did, Lance gave his number to him after school four days ago. 

keith , 7:03 PM 

hey. what time do we meet again?

He waited for a response, though, to his surprise, he gained one immediately.

lance , 7:03 PM

at 7:25,,, are u driving to school rn?

keith , 7:04 PM

no, i’m walking there. it takes about 15 minutes anyway, so i’ll probably get there before you.

lance , 7:04 PM

awwwww no fair!! i guess ill see ur mullet first thing when i enter,,,, lmao

Keith smiled down at his phone, his sweater paws being a bit too noticeable as he snapped a photo of himself flipping the camera off. 

keith , 7:05 PM [ photo sent ]

fuck you.

lance , 7:06 PM

OMG OMG UR SO CUTE WTF!!!?? AND WHAT R U WEARING ITS PROM WHERES UR SUIT ?!?

lance , 7:06 PM

UUUUUGGGHAHHHHH UR LIL HANDS IM SOBBING MY FINGERS ARE ALOT LONGER AND SKINNIER THAN URS 

Keith became flustered, smiling wider before texting back. 

keith , 7:07 PM

don’t say that, i’m not cute. if anyone, you are.

Nailed it.

Keith slipped his phone in his pocket, sighing dreamily as he continued to walk to school, the only sound to be heard were car engines starting and the loud taps of Keith’s shoes hitting pavement.

It all started to hit him slowly, the fact that he was going to spend time with Lance, he was going to talk to Lance and was going to possibly have physical contact with Lance. Maybe he’d even laugh with him.

His heart wouldn’t be able to make it that far.

But his body could. Hopefully.

He walked to school thinking of Lance, imagining what he looked like and if he had his hair slicked back or if he had it in curls––his hair is naturally curly; Keith knows this because he saw and asked one time about it, gaining a full backstory in the process.

Maybe it was just normal. Straightened. 

His skin must be glowing, maybe he even put on a little makeup to highlight his cheek bones, or maybe he highlighted his eyes. . . 

What color was his suit? Black or blue or some other color? Keith assumed it was black, plain and normal, though it seemed unlikely, as Lance’s personality usually found its way onto his clothes. Maybe blue.

Oh, god, did he look okay? Lance had only seen him a few minutes ago in a blurry selfie in a hoodie with sweater paws flipping him off, and he probably had bags under his eyes. Though, he did compliment Keith, saying his ‘hands were smaller than his’ and that ‘he was so cute’.

Lance was dramatic, so it could’ve meant nothing.

Or, it could’ve meant everything.

He moved on from the thought, trying to think of something other than the fact that he was going to blushing so hard around Lance and that he was going to talk and look and walk with Lance. . .  
Keith’s body made its way inside the school, and he immediately headed towards the bathroom, desperately trying to get Lance off his mind, even considering to bang it against a wall, though that brought suspicions.

His face didn’t show it, and neither did his body, but his heart was practically beating out of his chest, as though his heart was soaring and reaching towards Lance.

He passed by several others, most of them people he didn’t know, some willing to greet Keith but never gaining a ‘hello’ back.

Keith hoped at least one stall was open, nearly stumbling over himself before sliding into the bathroom.

The big stall was wide open. Fuck yes.

Keith ran inside, quietly closing the stall’s door with a click and pulling out his phone. He had eight new messages, all from Lance, as he swiped them all open. 

lance , 7:12

OMG STOPPPPPPP IM BLUSHING SO MUCH RN !!!!!

lance , 7:12 

YOU CANT DO THAT 2 ME THATS UNFAIR AND RUDE !!!!! SINNERS GO TO HELL YOU KNOW. . .

lance , 7:16 

ok im at school in the bathroom texting u rn

lance , 7:18 

txt me when u get here 

keith , 7:20 

hey, i’m here. i’m in the bathroom changing, i also brought something to school that is technically against school’s policy but whatever. i’ll be there in four minutes.

Keith exhaled, putting his phone away as he patted his cheeks lightly. 

“Oh, what am I doing? I can’t flirt for shit,” he whispered, scolding himself as he zipped open his backpack, looking at the empty, crystal clear bong. He had the cannabis in his pockets and the blue lighter, but lacked any water. 

He didn’t pack a water bottle. Keith didn’t pack a fucking water bottle.

lance , 7:21 

omg ?!?? what did u bring??? 

keith , 7:21 

well, if you could get me a cup of water, i can tell you. i’m in the wide stall of the boy’s bathroom.

Keith mentally resisted the urge to deck himself in the nose, hopefully breaking it, as he waited for Lance to––expectantly; he wasn’t sure––knock on the bathroom stall, a cup of water in hand.

He supposed he could take off his hoodie now, grabbing the bag and pulling upwards, gripping tightly as he slid it over his head, the crimson suit sliding up his body exposing his chest and back.

Keith wasn’t afraid to admit it, but he was actually muscular in multiple areas. His chest, back and shoulders were muscular, and he never showed them off, he wasn’t that kind of guy.

Oh, God. . . was Lance muscular? He’d never payed that much attention solely because he usually wore jackets and jeans, but in a suit he may be able to see it. . . maybe not.

A knock on the stall’s door startled Keith. He stuffed his hoodie quickly into his backpack, fixing his suit, still pissed off at the barely dampened sleeves, and deeply inhaled.

”Keith?” Lance’s voice echoed. “I have a cup of water,”

Immediately, Keith unlocked the stall and invited Lance in, closing it behind him and locking it again.

 

Oh, god had not prepared Keith for this.

His eyes wandered all around Lance’s body, swooning at how lovely his eyes were, how blue and beautiful they were. His lips were dark, wet maybe, as if he had been licking them, and his cheeks were a deep rose, spreading throughout his face like flowers blooming. The freckles that scattered his cheeks like sugar had Keith head over heels for him.

Keith was right, his suit was a royal blue with black lining, his hair was straight but if you looked closely, curls traced over them with perfect shade. Although he had no makeup, he sure did have moisturizer. His face glowed and shined, and compared to him, Keith was a speck of dirt in the Earth, and Lance was a shining star.

Then to his shoulders, and, pardon his French, but he could be fucking smitten by them. His chest was puffed out, even though Lance wasn’t doing it himself, it just was like that. Gee, he wasn’t as muscular as Keith but he did have some beef. 

His stomach turned in knots, he liked this total chick magnet, and he was getting the opportunity to hang out with him and was standing mere inches from him. 

How funny.

He watched as Lance’s eyes ran around the ground until they lie atop his bag, gawking at the bong that lay inside. 

He sputtered, “Keith!”

Keith pressed a single finger to Lance’s lips, prompting him to be quiet, before he grabbed the cup of water from him.

”Listen, I know,” he said, slightly gesturing to the bong, “But it’s a stress relief kinda thing.”

”You’re stressed? About what?”

Keith fucked up. “Prom always stresses me out, the music and dancing and all that junk,” he exhaled. 

The caramel colored boy in front of him seemed to forget what words were, as his mouth opened and closed multiple times, maybe dry. 

“You can leave n—”

“May I join you?” 

Keith stared at Lance, Lance stared at him. “May you what?”

“Join you,” he repeated, obviously talking about the object that sat high in Keith’s backpack. “As in, you know. . .”

Oh course Keith knew, he wasn’t as stupid as he looked, but he stood there in shock and confusion for, what seemed like, two minutes before shaking out of it, stuttering out words not even he could understand. He lowered himself to the ground, gripping the bong with his left hand and bringing it in front of him. 

He poured in barely half the cup of water, maybe ¼, and handed it to Lance. “What am I supposed to do with this?” He asked, tone high, not expecting Keith to pull a bag of cannabis out of his hoodie’s pocket that lay on the ground.

He gasped. “Keith!” He spoke over exaggerated, in a whisper, watching as Keith unzipped the bag and put some in the small bowl, taking a few deep breaths, and watching Lance do the same, before taking the bong from Lance.

He grabbed the lighter from his open backpack with his right hand and tilted the bong. His lips entered the bong, the lighter now burning the tip of the cannabis, inhaling slowly.

Keith seemed to pause, stopped inhaling, and removed the lighter, handing it to Lance, who stared at it. 

He removed the small bowl and inhaled all the smoke from inside, pulling back to hold it inside his lungs before exhaling. 

Lance opened his mouth. “I repeat what you just did?” He asked, gaining a dumbfounded look.

“You’ve never done this before? Why even ask to join?”

Lance’s cheeks flushed red in embarrassment. “I don’t know! I suppose I’m stressed too, may you help me with it?”

Keith was seriously considering jumping onto the toilet and crawling over the other stall door, falling and hopefully fainting. He passed Lance the bong, inserting the bowl inside the hole again. “Fine.”

And so, Lance repeated what Keith did, with Keith pressed up behind him, guiding him through the parts he hadn’t paid much attention to, and ended up coughing like a maniac, face red like crazy and mind blurry from Keith breathing onto his neck. 

Keith would consider that a success, packing everything back into his bag, grabbing it and smiling softly at Lance, something he wouldn’t regret later. He cannot remember from memory, but he had swore Lance smiled back, maybe even leaning forward, but he would never be sure.

They lead each other to the gymnasium, where the entire stress-maker was made, and immediately spotted Pidge, Hunk, Allura and Romelle all standing to the side. 

Lance ran over, waving with both arms and nearly tripping over himself to jump onto Hunk, who he had seen maybe ten minutes ago and was acting as though he hadn’t seen him in ten years. “Buddy!”

They looked to Keith, saying ‘hello’ and ‘what’s up loser’, having a poorly said ‘hi’ back. Hunk asked what was wrong with Lance and he replied honestly, which was the stupidest option now that he looked back at it, and had to watch as Hunk gawked and shook Lance in playful rage, concern coating his face like snowflakes. 

“Don’t worry,” Keith grinned. “He’ll be fine.”

The night slowly went on, Lance giggling nonstop and constantly leaning against people––although, he leaned against Hunk and Allura mostly, but he leaned against Keith for about five minutes and Keith thought an angel had touched his shoulder––and coughing. Romelle and Allura continued to be sappy lovers, slow dancing and kissing each other nearly everywhere on their face.

Hunk thought it was sweet, though Keith gagged in disgust before staring at Lance for the next twenty-one minutes, watching him smile and laugh and do anything that could’ve made Keith swoon.

Startled, Keith jumped from the sound of Hunk’s voice.

“We’ll be right back,” Hunk promised, nearly walking backwards with everybody but Lance and himself. “We’re just going to get something, are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Keith sighed. He was, tired, though.

———

It had been five minutes, and he couldn’t help but see someone in the corner of his eye.

Keith held his breath as Lance walked towards him, smirking as though he owned the world. “Lance, what are you doing?” Keith giggled slightly, though it were to cover up his true feelings, blossoming like lillies. 

Lance’s body was all too close to his own, lips even closer as the music seemed to fade into nothingness. Why was this happening? Two minutes ago, it seemed like he was just in the bathroom stall with Lance, covering his mouth to stop anyone from suspecting anything, and now? He was so close to Lance, he could practically count every freckle on his cute cheeks. 

Lance’s hand traveled up to Keith’s hair, feeling all the locks and strands and resisting the urge to tug at it, his other hand landing atop his shoulder. 

He couldn’t breathe, and in a moment of being deeply in love, his hands traveled to Lance’s chest and to his shoulder, almost to his hair, though Keith decided to spare it this time. They leaned towards each other, and they both swore they heard each other’s heartbeats. 

So close, so, so close. . .

“Dance with me,” Lance whispered, lips nearly touching Keith’s own. “And imagine we are the only ones here.”

And he did. He danced with Lance, barely listening as the music changed to a slow song, romantic, but he only looked at Lance’s eyes, how pretty blue they were and how they sparkled like glitter and the ripples of water. He didn’t care if people were watching, he moved on his own, as if possessed.

He felt his hair shift and be slightly pulled at, lanky fingers threading through it and only making Keith more in love with Lance. 

He rubbed his thumb over the fabric of Lance’s suit, soft, he thought, before nearly leaning too hard into the caramel-skinned boy dancing before him. 

“Steady,” he spoke lowly, as if hiding. “Don’t want to fall over yourself, though I’d pick you up.”

Keith grinned. “Really?”

“Yes,” he chucked, quietly. “I would. Don’t think your small cup of water did anything to me, Kogane, I’m still me, if you’re still you.”

He nearly froze, Lance did, not pausing the dancing though. “I have your consent?”

Keith nodded, “As do I have yours?” 

Lance nodded his head and sighed and giggled all at once, Keith laying his head atop his chest and slow dancing, listening to the heartbeat that slowly gained speed.

Suddenly, Keith’s stomach started to growl. Hunger.

He tried to ignore it, wanting to dance with Lance forever, but he hadn’t eaten anything for countless hours, nine at the most. And the food they held at prom was all gone, so no hope lay there. . .

“Lance,” he mumbled into his chest. “I’m hungry.”

The tall boy hummed. “Well, what are you hungry for?”

“I don’t know, but all the food here is gone and I haven’t had a full meal in, like, twelve hours.”

At that, Lance almost toppled over. His fingers loosened from Keith’s long black locks, instead gripping onto his hand and tugging him forward. To where? Keith didn’t know, but he knew that Hunk would come back and panic like crazy.

The exit was where they headed, and Keith was too psyched to even care. Why would you care about anything when Lance McClain, the Lance McClain, was holding your hand? 

Lance pushed open the door, cool night wind blew gently (and barely) across his face, hair blowing in the wind like leaves in autumn. The moon, somewhat visible, glowed lightly atop their skin. “Where would you like to eat?”

Keith paused. He didn’t know, why would he? He was so focused on the blue eyed boy in front of him he couldn’t think straight, hands trembling and the tips of his ears reddening, breath coming out in small pants and legs feeling numb. He tried to think of a place he’s been before, a place he wouldn’t regret going to and a place that could satisfy his hunger for sure. . .

Only two places came to mind, though one was most likely closed at the time, so Keith had to bare the weight of replying to Lance with the blatantly said; “McDonalds.” 

He froze, watching Lance turn to look at him with a strange expression, a mixture of ‘are you serious?’ and ‘oh my god’. 

He burst into laughter like a balloon suddenly popping, smile wide and eyes close shut. The laugh was genuine, not forced, as he used his left hand to gently wipe away his tears. He continued to laugh until he chuckled, then giggled, then snorted, cheeks hot red and body quaking as if he were about to laugh again.

“Oh, oh my god! McDonald’s? McDonald’s?” He snorted, right eye crinkling as the corner of his dark lip upturned. He was giggling, soon needing Keith to urge him to be quiet and to remind him that he was hungry, gaining the sudden (slight) serious response, “Alright, alright, the closest McDonald’s near here is about ten minutes away.”

And yet, as they started picking up their pace, they never let go of one another’s hand.

——

The walk––even for ten minutes––was all too short. It almost felt as if he were walking atop clouds, traveling through some kind of intergalactic wormhole that could teleport, weird, he knew. It came out of some weird sci-fi he read once, a series of comic books back in ‘06. Though they weren’t the best comics, sometimes lacking development and strange disrespect for their characters of color, he’d say the first comic he’d read was the best one so far. . .

Was he getting off track? He still held Lance’s hand, still breathed in the fresh air and still felt his heart beating like a drum, he must’ve been on the right track. The sci-fi in ‘06 can wait, the true sci-fi was right in front of him.

He stopped walking, as did Lance. “We’re here,” he grinned. “Wouldn’t it be nice if we order in the driveway?”

Keith chuckled, having to hold the back of his hand to his mouth to resist bursting. “Maybe sometime later,” he giggled, heading towards the door. “For now, let’s not try and get the employees to call the cops.”

As the door opened, the bell chiming, they immediately smelled all the salt, Lance looking as though he were about to vomit right on the floor. The menu seemed to intimidate them in some strange way, Keith humming to read the menu.

“Oh, don’t ask me what I want, we came here for what you want,” Lance cooed, still gripping Keith’s hand. His hands were soft, had he already said that? Maybe so, but it was a daily reminder that he had danced with this boy and nearly kissed this boy.

Keith playfully scoffed, peering at the menu more closely. What did he want? He was practically on the verge of dying, and Lance had mentioned at one point in time while they walked that he had enough money to buy the entire menu.

“I’ll have,” Keith trailed off, finger tapping his chin with all the options he had, a soft tap seemed so loud. “Fifty chicken nuggets, two M&M McFlurries and a large sprite.”

The worker seemed to look at him with a raised eyebrow, probably suspecting he was high, to which he was, but shrugged and asked for the money, in total thirty nine dollars and fifty cents, and Lance dug into his pockets and managed to pull out a fifty. 

“Keep the change,” he smirked, as if trying to impress the raven haired boy beside him. Had Keith ever noticed how beautiful his smile was? Or how when he smiled too wide his eyes closed in joy? Or how when focused he bit his lip and, sometimes, tapped his thigh? Not until now, he didn’t, but now it seemed as though he were needing it like how meat needed salt. 

He could have sworn Lance tightened his grip on his hand, he could have sworn. 

And so, they stood there for about six minutes and forty two seconds, Keith feeling Lance’s head drop atop his shoulder like how it did at the school, raising their combined hands and glaring down at them. 

“At the prom,” his voice cracked in a whisper, breathing softly. Keith listened. “When we danced,”

When they danced. 

“I don’t know how to say it but,”

Keith rubbed his thumb over Lance’s warm knuckles, admiring how they seemed to fit like the missing puzzle piece in Keith’s own. “Yeah?”

Lance exhaled deeply, humming for just a second longer. “I want to do it again, when we haven’t just taken a hit of your ‘magic stress reliever’,” he chuckled.

“I don’t know if I’m allowed to, but it was nice. And it felt as though we were. . . us. Little kids again. Like we were the stars to the galaxy and everyone else was the planets that float around us. It felt sweet.”

Keith’s heart beat faster, a grin resting on his rosy cheeks. He felt the same, felt as though he were dancing on mere air and staring into the bluest eyes he’d ever seen. He felt all mushy inside, something he’d let drift far from him a long time ago, in a promise he’d never forgotten; but now it had broken, that was what love felt like?

He had thought he had locked love away long ago but it seems he hadn’t. 

Lance giggled. “Your heart. It’s beating so fast right now,” he mumbled, sounding as if he was about to fall asleep. 

“Yours is, too,” Keith raised both eyebrows, laughing before it died down. “How long do you think it’s been?”

“Since what?”

“Since we ordered,” Keith’s grin never left his face, their voices always kept at a whisper. “I’m guessing ten minutes.”

Lance couldn’t stop giggling lightly. “I’d say, five.”

He huffed. “Half of my answer? Okay, Mr. Smart guy.”

The sound of a bag hitting the counter brought the two boys out of their laughs, Lance’s hand untangling for the first time in quite some time and head lifting from his shoulder. AN employee, standing lazily behind the counter with a large paper bag and coaster with two McFlurries and a Sprite yawned but excused himself. “Here you go, have a nice day,”

Lance grabbed both the bag and coaster, nodding his head to him and saying ‘thank you’ just before the door shut. The smell of food nearly put Keith to sleep, hunger clawing at his throat and ribs, thirst hitting his head like a drum. 

Immediately, Keith grabbed the McFlurry from the coaster, never wanting ice cream more than he did now. He took off the plastic lid and tossed it into the trash can beside him, running to the curb of the sidewalk. Did he care that they were sitting there, off all places, hidden from the world behind the shadow of a huge ‘M’? No, he fairly didn’t.

He moaned over the ice cream, throat feeling much better already and stomach pausing the aching. “Lance,” he groaned, turning to face Lance as he sat down next to him. “You’ve got to try the ice cream. Please,”

The tan boy snorted and set down all the food, practically gasping when Keith grabbed a chicken nugget and dipped it in his ice cream, eating it and repeating the process. He commented on how ‘that’s so fucking disgusting? I can’t believe I touched hands with you’ and got a punch in the shoulder. 

Lance grabbed a handful of chicken nuggets, about nine, and practically stuffed them in his face. The Sprite was shared between the two, one of the two McFlurries already being gone.

It was hilarious, seeing as Keith lay his head on Lance’s shoulder for a change and groaned and moaned about how awful his head felt, having to hear Lance say to ‘press your tongue on the roof of your mouth’ and having tears form in his eyes.

Keith felt an immediate guilt as Lance grabbed the paper bag and shook it, peering inside to see only three chicken nuggets left, ‘aw’ing and eating them. “Did you eat the entire bag?” The brunette asked, gaining a shyly said ‘yeah’ from Keith. He hummed.

“I only had nineteen,” he pouted. “Then again, this is your supper.”

“Oh, would you stop that?” Keith scrunched up his nose, disliking how Lance only wanted him to eat. “You need food, too.”

“And so what? I’ve had nineteen—”

“But you’re still hungry,” he cut him off. “That’s not good, eat your ice cream.”

“But Keith,” he exaggerated the ‘th’ in ‘Keith’ and leaned towards him in a dramatic fashion, arm draped over his forehead. “I want something hot, not cold.”

Oh.

Keith had figured that at this point, he was completely and utterly high. No turning back from this moment, and he didn’t look forward to doing so. He had figured that from this second in time, the Earth would spin the other way and the night sky would be white with all the stars. 

He decided to be cocky, to be confident and flirty, something he was not. He had bonded with Lance multiple times today, some even possibly romantic––definitely romantic––and others just a form of him wanting more contact with this beautiful boy. 

Were he to jump into battle or stay at ground until the gun echoes off? He hadn’t had full permission, so he stayed like a hunter stalking its prey––Lance had told him a similar line, one that was in all six of his favorite movies––and decided to play simple.

He inhaled deeply, breathing in the air that swirl around them like a tornado covered in dandelion petals. 

After wiping his hand on a napkin, and making sure Lance had wiped his, he gripped onto the boy’s hand. Lanky, warm and soft, thumb hesitantly rubbing over the knuckles once more and feeling all the bones. 

“You’re hungry?” 

Lance nodded, eyes staring daggers into their hands. He moved closer, just a little bit, before his eyes trailed up to Keith’s chest, to his lips, to his hair and to his eyes. Then back to his lips.

Now? It reminded him of the ocean. Calm and collected but rippled and crashing through the sand. It seemed fitting, both their faces seemed as though nothing were happening, eyes wide and lips nearly parting, wondering what would happen and the inside of them was screaming, tearing at their hearts and hands and trying desperately to just ‘go for it’, but they never listened.

Millions of thoughts ran through Keith’s mind, none of them calm and none of them would be accepted in a church building at most. 

Oh, god, was he breathing correctly? It seemed like he wasn’t, his cheeks red and the ball of his nose seemed to be, too. He was so nervous, yet so high and concluded and confident and flirty, why did it need to be that way? 

He parted his slips just barely, the smallest gap between his lips, tongue pink and feeling mushy in his mouth. His palms started to sweat, cursing mentally before tugging at his own hair, bangs pulled into his fist and he hoped, desperately hoped he looked at least hot. 

“We have more,” he glanced to the side, then back to Lance, eyes narrow and full. “Right here.”

He tapped his lips, seeming to smile cheekily like he’d just told a joke, eyes crinkling shut and fist uncurling. But he didn’t laugh, just smiled cheekily looking as if he were about to start a thread of giggles.

When he opened his eyes again, was Lance closer? His mouth then widened, words forming in with cotton and drifting rose petals.

Before Keith could even process, his back was on the sidewalk, his hands finding their way and pulling at Lance’s neck, lips on Lance’s own. It was so sloppy and messy, so fast and unexpected that they weren’t even sure if it was a kiss. Lance’s hands were on Keith’s face, thumb grazing over his cheeks before pulling away. Their faces were as red as Keith’s suit, lips seeming to burn, as they breathed hard. 

Wow. Lance looked beautiful with the moon’s glow seeming to radiate off behind him, hair messy and breath coming out in small pants, face dark and eyes wide. He was adorable.

Lance leaned down again, quickly, messily kissing Keith again. Instead of his face, fingers gripped tightly onto his hair, feeling every inch of it. He was kissing Lance, and Lance was kissing him. It almost seemed unreal, like he were kissing a mere angel, but instead it was real. It was happening.

He bit on Lance’s lip lightly, feeling as Lance returned the gesture, and decided to shove his tongue in the mix. He’d never French kissed before, and neither had Lance it felt like, so they just twisted their tongues around each other’s, always having lips apart for a split second to breathe then going back to making out.

It felt as if fireworks crackled in his stomach, head spinning and mouth moving on its own. His eyes were closed, but he’d try and glance at Lance quickly before being forced to close his eyes again, the dark pair of lips moving down, down, down to his neck… 

God, they were really making out in front of McDonalds? Right near the sidewalk, behind the huge yellow ‘M’? 

Keith didn’t want to be accused for it, but he had arched his back as Lance nibbled at the skin of his neck. He wouldn’t admit this, either, maybe just this once, but he had pressed the boy’s head to his neck, he had already nudged at his own collar, trying to loosen it and did but it was basically nothing.

He was making out, sloppily, messily, crazily with Lance. Lance. Lance! 

He loved Lance, and he was sure Lance loved him back.

Keith almost whimpered when Lance yanked back, now sprawled atop Keith but having his arms support him. He seemed shocked, awestruck and joyous for what had just occurred, swooning much too low.

“I…” he started, but never continued. He was so cute.

Keith giggled giddily, not being able to control himself. “You?”

The laugh rang like music to his ears, having made him tired and sleepy yet he were fully awake, more awake than ever, in fact.

They hopped off each other, now sitting across from one another in pure excitement, as if it were a drug they’d just kissed off each other’s lips. Lance spoke first, hissing when he licked his now swollen lips. “I can’t believe we just did that. Like, we just…”

“Made out,” Keith finished his sentence. “Right in front of McDonalds.”

He chuckled, intertwining his hands with the older boy. “Why doesn’t that surprise me?” He mumbled, changing his position so it were easier to lean into Keith, now on his knees. 

Jeez, they were awfully high, huh? Even if they did just take one hit, it was obvious it had done more than meant to.

With that ‘awfully highness’ also came ‘awful stupidity’, making sense as they both closed their eyes too early, Keith feeling something wet and ticklish on his ear, which turned out to be Lance’s tongue.

Immediately, he squealed, falling on his back and pushing Lance away from him. Keith gagged and desperately used his long hair to cover his ears and face. “You—you just licked my ear!” He yelled, voice strangely high.

Lance made a gagging noise, spitting into the dirt several times before covering his mouth with both hands. “I didn’t mean to! I closed my eyes too early!”

“Then you shouldn’t have even leaned in!” Keith yelled.

Lance groaned, not being able to see how much Keith was blushing due to all the hair in his face. “I’ve never kissed anyone before! Cut me some slack,” he grumbled.

Though Keith urged himself not to argue with Lance, wanting to remind him of how they kissed near minutes ago, he kept quiet.

He sat up with both elbows dug into the dirt, yelping before his elbows gave way and he lay on his back. His hair had slightly parted, now he was able to see one sixth of the sky, everything else slightly covered. “You just licked my ear. My fucking ear,” he whispered to himself, arms and legs spread out as if he were doing a snow angel. “I cannot believe.”

The sudden thought of prom jolted into his mind. Hunk was most likely back to where he once stood, probably freaking out over something and having to have Pidge and Allura calm him down, he guessed Romelle was probably crying on the floor out of how much she loved Allura.

Had Shiro and Adam noticed his bong was gone? And a lighter? And cannabis? He hoped not, he’d be grounded for who knows how long, already having begged them for a decent suit… 

But the connection of thoughts suddenly disappeared as the sky turned to a face, a face of familiarity. The face of Lance. His body was atop his, and a small grin rested atop his face like snow in December. How many times was he allowed to say that he was extremely handsome without it getting old? He didn’t know, but he was gonna allow himself to say it once more.

He blew upwards, to his hair, frowning when it barely moved. Lance’s hand curled Keith’s hair behind his ear, blushing when he saw his face.

“You’re so handsome,” Lance remarked, lovestruck.

Keith tilted his head. “I was gonna say that,” he smiled. “Now, don’t lick my ear this time.”

Lance playfully flicked his ear, immediately apologizing when Keith flinched in slight pain, later realizing he had sensitive earlobes.

And so, unbearably slowly, they leaned into each other, already used to kissing even if it has only been eight minutes. 

“Hey, face-suckers!” 

Keith and Lance nearly choked as they flung away from each other, coughing up a storm before spotting Pidge on the road, driving a jet black mustang that couldn’t be hers.

She snickered, head hung back as her snickering turned to full blown laughter. “Your faces are so red! Oh, you guys really were making out!” 

Keith shot her a look that said ‘shut the fuck up’, trying to intimidate her but failed miserably, her hands bringing down her glasses as though she were a police officer pulling them over, smirking. 

“Adam called,” she cooed, watching as the blood drained from Keith’s face. That couldn’t be good.

“He said he suspected you brought a lighter and bong to school, and that we should pick you up and bring you home.”

“Am I grounded?” 

Pidge snorted. “Fuck yeah.”

Keith groaned, looking back to Lance who was resisting laughter, dark palms covering his mouth, nearly squeezing, as his eyes were squinted. He flinched while Keith stared at him in disbelief, not expecting him to grab his arm and pull him up. 

“Come on,” he groaned. “I’m now grounded. For life, I’m sure.”

He broke into laughter, mouth wide and dimples large. 

He swore, he swore to everything that his heart did melt, nearly beat out of his chest that night. He swore. Keith remembers perfectly.

At this point, Keith hadn’t even been realizing what he’d been doing. He was delirious and his lips were sore from kissing all night. 

So, as they strode into the jet black mustang, Lance calming down and cuddling up into Keith as they sit in the back seats, up seat sat Pidge, Romelle and Hunk. Allura sat on the far right, giggling––probably drunk––and playing with Romelle’s hair.

As they rode to Keith’s house, Pidge and Allura nearly vomiting, both for different reasons; Allura’s was simply that she was motion sick and Pidge’s was that Lance wouldn’t stop kissing Keith’s cheeks and lips, with Hunk blasting jazz. It was all seemingly a blur, but Keith was told that he slapped the back of Hunk’s head ‘by accident’ and called Allura’s hair ‘pretty’ while practically tugging it.

It felt like an eternity they spent in the car, pulling up into Shiro and Adam’s driveway. Immediately, the door to the house swung open abruptly, banging against the house’s side and suddenly, the car door was opening.

Adam hadn’t even had his glasses on, probably wearing contacts, as he stare wide-eyed at the boy beside Keith. All of Lance’s weight was on Keith’s shoulder, lanky fingers tangled into Keith’s short ones.

“Okay,” Adam said, cocking an eyebrow before crossing his arms. “Is that your boyfriend?”

Stuttering and constant ‘uh’s were passed around, though Keith still got grounded, he was allowed to keep his phone and the such. He wasn’t allowed to leave the house without proper permission––except for school, of course.

Though, he didn’t regret anything at all, even if he had to listen to Shiro ramble on about sex and all that stuff because, apparently, when you get a boyfriend, it’s all sex. Which is not true, by the way.

From then on, he got giddy every time Lance ever texted him three billion heart emojis and, maybe four times, Keith sent them back.

Did he remember all of the times he and Lance snuck into the boy’s bathroom at school to kiss? No, but he had known it had been one of the best times of his life. Well, maybe besides the time he got to go inside Lance’s house to watch scary movies and eat popcorn.

Or maybe it was countless other things jumbled into his memory. 

END


End file.
